


My Heart's Home (Is With You)

by luminfics, sailorvenusgold



Series: Round 2018 [14]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 12:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15096563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminfics/pseuds/luminfics, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorvenusgold/pseuds/sailorvenusgold
Summary: Minseok, the heir of Lord Kim, is set to inherit everything his father owns, and marry a man worthy of him and his standing. There is no room in his life for a lacking baronet like Lu Han.





	My Heart's Home (Is With You)

**Author's Note:**

> Username: anonymous until reveals  
> Prompt Number: #142  
> Title: My Heart's Home (Is With You)  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Warnings: n/a
> 
> Author's Notes: Largely inspired by Pride and Prejudice, because the 2005 film is the only thing I'd been binging before I started writing this

 

Lu Han is now Sir Lu Han of Briarton; Lu Han is but a seven year old boy.

His father is dead now, swept away by the fever that had taken him two months ago, making an already unpleasant situation much worse. Their estate had been struggling, had been for quite a while, and they were poor too, and now their baronet is but seven.

He watches as the pallbearers lower his father’s casket into the allotted plot in the churchyard. There are very few mourners present; the majority are staff at the estate. The only attendants present who had not been at his father’s former service are the priest, Lu Han himself, his mother, and Viscount Kim, a man he remembers as one of his father’s closest friends.

The man, shorter in stature than the former Sir Lu, does not approach them until long after Lu Han’s father is buried deep in the ground. At this point, it is only the three of them in the churchyard—the servants had left almost immediately to tend to the house and dinner, their conduct ordered to be untouched by grief by the now widowed Lady Lu. Lu Han, too, would have liked to leave, he had never been comfortable with the stagnancy that his father’s death has wrought, but the delicate grip on his shoulder keeps him quiet and grounded by his mother’s side.

“Lady Lu,” Viscount Kim states, bowing to his mother. He pauses, and then, “Sir Lu Han,” offering him a bow and a smile, one that reveals his gums. Lu Han decides he likes him.

“Lord Kim,” his mother returns with a brief curtsy. “It is good to see you here.”

He nods. “Unfortunately, my presence was called by the very worst. His death must pain you much more. Sir Lu was my dearest friend, but he was your husband and Lu Han’s father. It will be much more difficult in the coming months, years, I’m sure, what with the income provided for you.”

Viscount Kim pauses, as if unsure of his audience.

“So, in memory of my friend, and in what I think is in everybody’s best interest, I offer to foster Lu Han at my home, at Rosdale House. He will be brought up with my son, Minseok, with whom he shares an age, and will receive tutoring in all aspects in order to become baronet. You will not need to provide anything.”

“I have very little reason to decline,” his mother declares, voice tired, dry, and void of emotion. It stings Lu Han. He is her son. She should have protested more. “Lu Han pack your bags, you will leave when Lord Kim does so, in two nights.”

She says this with a finality that drains Lu Han of all the fight within him. He has no choice but to affirm her decision, with tears stinging at his eyes.

 

-

 

Lu Han does, indeed, leave after two nights. The Viscount’s carriage is stacked with Lu Han’s meagre belongings—his clothes, the few books he has, some toys he managed to salvage out of sentiment—of which there are barely enough to fill a trunk and a case, a matter which he ponders, not without a good amount of shame. Seven though he is, this is a fact not lost on Lu Han; that his father has, from beyond the grave, taken advantage of the poor Viscount and foisted his son onto him until he reaches adulthood. And perhaps, even after, he will continue to leech off him then. This is what it will look like to all the others.

His mother doesn’t see him off. She stays outside the carriage, discussing any final concerns with Viscount Kim, but makes no move to look at her son. Lu Han entertains himself with the fact that she is either too grieved by the passing of his father, or that she will lose all composure if she sees him one final time before he is to leave, or both. _He_ is sure that he would burst into tears if he sees his mother. He almost does when the carriage passes the gates, but he cannot, not with Viscount Kim just sitting across him. Instead, Lu Han digs his fingernails into his knees and wills the tears away.

“I hope you do not see yourself as an imposter in my home.” Viscount Kim’s soft voice breaks him out of his mind. “It is completely understandable if you do not love it as your own home, but trust that this is the best situation for you, at your age and circumstance.”

Viscount Kim smiles at him, then turns his gaze to Lu Han’s house, now shrinking into the distance.

“I thought we’d perhaps get acquainted when you would be a little older, that you’d be spending summers instead of years at my estate, but tragically the fever overpowered your father—may he rest in peace—and now everything has been done in such haste. My wife will have my head as soon as I return, she promised me that!”

Lu Han does not reply, but Viscount Kim does not seem to be looking for one, investing his time in a book for the rest of the ride, taking care when leafing over the delicate pages, and only looks up in wide-eyed surprise when the carriage hits a particularly large bump on the road. Lu Han had laughed at this—a short, stifled, but childish laugh—and the viscount smiled, before turning back to his text.

  


The Kim’s estate is not very far at all. The journey is completed within two hours and when Lu Han and Viscount Kim pull up into the entrance, it is just before midday, just before dinner has been taken.

Lu Han is utterly overwhelmed by Rosdale. Much of the picture is dominated by green; the lawn is expansive, itself taking up what would have been over the size of Briarton—house and farm and garden and all—and Rosdale House itself is flanked on either side by an artful assortment of various trees and shrubbery. But the house—manor, palace even—is not like anything Lu Han has ever seen. It is large and grand and elegant, a many-windowed building, with tall pillars screening the middle of the front of the house—it is very proper and very pretty. A far cry from Briarton.

He is reluctant to step foot out of the carriage, he is not meant for life in a place like _Rosdale_ , but he does not want to seem like an ungrateful and spiteful child to Viscount Kim, so he hops down after the older man’s lead and tries to make himself as small and as unassuming as possible by one of the black wheels of the carriage.

This is foiled when a young boy comes bounding out of the large house, his face full of unbridled glee as he latches onto Viscount Kim’s leg. The man laughs and pulls the boy up to carry him in his strong arms and pepper his cheeks with kisses. The boy’s face reminds Lu Han of the cats he had used to feed in the stable at Briarton, the ones that his mother had forbidden him from seeking out.

“Minseok! I see you’ve escaped your mother again,” Viscount Kim mock-chides, pinching the boys nose.

The boy wrinkles his nose and giggles. “I’ve been waiting by the window all morning! She knew you were coming back today so I’ve been let off for the entire day!” His smile is big and bright and gummy, revealing a missing tooth from the top row of his teeth.

“Excellent!” Viscount Kim says, setting Minseok back down on the ground, “This will give you the opportunity to get to know Lu Han. He will be living with us from now on.”

Minseok peers wide-eyed at Lu Han, tilting his head very much like a cat at the other boy, before giving him one of his _own_ gummy smiles and sticking his arm out for a handshake.

“I’m Minseok!”

Lu Han stares at the chubby little hand, before taking it in greeting, giving Minseok a much smaller smile, but a smile of the same sentiment. “I am Sir Lu Han of Briarton.”

“A Sir? _Already_?” Minseok gasps.

There is no malice, no derision—Minseok is but a child and only means to convey to Lu Han his amazement, but the young boy cannot help but feel the embarrassment creep up his cheeks. There is nothing amazing about Lu Han’s status when _Minseok_ is the heir of a Viscount, the heir to such a vast estate. He bites his lip and tries to smile as bright as he can.

Viscount Kim ruffles Lu Han’s hair and leads the two boys into the manor. “Let us go inside Minseok. Lu Han must be famished—the Lord knows I am!”

The inside of the house is just as handsome as the outside. Everything is done in the style of the old Greeks; there are grand, embossed white ceilings, beautiful, tall columns, meandering borders across the walls and, of course, marble statues in the corner of each room.

The dining room is no different—a light and airy looking room—although, instead of statues and busts, there are paintings on the walls, paintings of past Lords and Ladies of Rosdale standing guard and scrutinising everything in the area. There is no doubt that Lu Han is not left out of their evaluation, and he is felt feeling a little smaller.

“Papa may Sir Lu Han sit next to me?” Minseok asks. His smile is so bright and hopeful that his father cannot help but agree. Lu Han moves to the seat next to Minseok and sits down with the rest of them when Lady Kim enters with the infant Miss Kim—Minseok’s younger sister—clinging to her neck and hiding herself when she sees the new arrival.

Lu Han is desperate to gorge himself on the food—a feast really. Briarton could not afford the same quantity and variety of food that the Kims had on offer, with roast meats and soup and even pudding! It had been very rare to have a hot supper, let alone a hot dinner. But he does not want to betray this information, not to the Kims or the servants surrounding them. They would think that he was some urchin in town that Lord Kim had taken in through providence and by his own kind charity.

“Do eat up child,” Lady Kim says, smiling in the same king and encouraging way as her son. “This is all for you.”

  


After dinner, Viscount Kim takes Lu Han to his room.

“I’ve asked the maids to put your things where they belong, so you would not have to do it yourself.”

His bedroom matches the rest of the house in its delicate magnificence—although he imagines it’s a bit smaller than Lord Kim’s and Minseok’s—with a thick canopy and curtains, all in white—Luhan’s favourite colour, and a view of Rosdale’s southern gardens.

“Minseok’s room is just across the room from yours—under usual circumstances we’d have had you closer to Lady Kim and I, but Minseok wore us down,” Viscount Kim smiles, “He has been very excited to meet you.”

 

-

 

Lu Han warms very easily to Minseok. He had expected the other to be an exhausting companion, as excitable as the first day they had come into each other’s company, however Minseok proves to be more reticent than the first impression—shy even—but is never lacking in respect for his parents, his tutors and the servants.

But what endears Lu Han the most, as selfish as it may sound, is the way Minseok treats him. With Minseok, Lu Han rarely feels like the poor baronet at the Kim’s charity, playing together and learning together and growing as close as any two people could be, disregarding any formalities that would have otherwise severed them.

What’s more, Lu Han is treated as Minseok’s equal. This is seen in near every aspect of their daily life and education too—while Minseok is superior in arithmetic and music, Lu Han fares better in Latin and Greek; Minseok always bests the younger at fencing, but Lu Han is the preferred horseman. And he receives praise from the Lord and Lady of the house, _and_ the heir.

And so, he falls in love with Minseok. It is a gradual affair—Lu Han is still incredibly young, and shy too, and for now, he has all the time in the world to fall in love. In fact, he tries to stop himself at first because he knows how complicated things would be if he grew a romantic attachment to the son of a man who is, in essence, Lu Han’s sponsor. But Minseok makes it so easy to slip.

 

-

 

His infatuation with Minseok grows alongside the two of them, and by the time they are both sixteen, Lu Han is so taken with the other, commanded by his heart strings with such ease that he feels discomforted without Minseok’s presence.

Lu Han, although not as tall as he’d prefer, is slightly taller than Minseok. He suspects he’ll grow even taller in the coming years and will possess the ability to tuck Minseok’s head into the crook of his neck over time as he looks down at his companion.

Minseok, despite the little height that he possessed, _had_ grown—grown beautifully.

He had never lost his chubbiness—something that Minseok was acutely aware of and would secretly denounce to Lu Han—but this was something that only endeared everyone to him. His cheeks framed his face so prettily, and made him look so youthful, even at his young age, and together with his almond shaped eyes and long lashes and growing hair, served to make him the beauty of the county.

If Lu Han had the eloquence, he would certainly commit Minseok to paper, immortalise that face and heart so that he would still be appreciated and admired after death.

Unfortunately, as the beauty of the county, Minseok garnered a lot of attention and at but sixteen, he had a good number of suitors.

This was a fact which, without doubt, bothered Lu Han, but to his thoughts and imaginations, this seemed an unwarranted and unwanted thing for _Minseok_ as well, something which Lu Han could not understand.

“This is the second proposal in a month Lu Han,” Minseok bites out as he paces around the other’s room.

Lu Han swallows his jealousies and insecurities and puts on a hopeful expression. “Oh? Who is it from?”

Minseok stops, frowns, and blinks at him, but does not withhold the answer. “It is from the heir of Countess Shim.”

Lu Han, too, frowns. “I thought you liked him. Thought him handsome.” He had remembered this all too well, when, at that one dinner with the Countess, he had to sit next to Minseok as he blushed at Count Changmin’s blatant flirtations. “Besides, you are not too young to be married, and he _will_ be a count. You may not keep Rosdale, but you would never struggle.”

Minseok bites his lip at him and sighs, falling back on Lu Han’s bed. Lu Han watches his long hair fan around his head. If it were another person, Lu Han would balk, but Minseok is the only person he trusts to be cleaner than him. “Yes, I thought he was handsome, but I do not _know_ him. And I know for _certain_ he doesn’t know me, nor does he care to. I am only a pretty face for his wealthy arm.” Minseok glares out of the window. “If he truly cared, he would travel here, himself, court me and take his time, and _then_ ask.”

Minseok faces him then, a gleam in his eyes, and a playful smile on those lips that Lu Han is always desperate to kiss.

“He even wrote me a dreadful sonnet. Would you care to listen Hannie?”

  


Count Changmin is a persistent man, sending three more letters to the house, but Minseok proves to be made of stronger stuff than the count and in consequence rebuffs all his proposals. Lu Han is relieved, but he knows this is to be short lived. Minseok is the heir to Rosdale and, ordinarily, this alone is enough to merit many marriage proposals, but Minseok possesses beauty and extraordinary wit, as well as an estate, and Lu Han expects many more powerful men to fall at his friend’s feet.

However, he doesn’t expect the less-than-powerful as well.

Yifan is a stable hand at Rosdale, tasked specifically with looking after Lu Han’s bay colt and Minseok’s grey as Yifan is the one person, save for Minseok himself, who can bring comfort to Minseok’s mare.

Lu Han considers Yifan handsome enough—his hair is a pleasing shade of blond and he is tall too, and broad, possessing the looks and airs of a nobleman, proud and dignified even as a servant. It is unfortunate for him that Minseok, too, thinks he is handsome and more, endeared by the tenderness and affection that Yifan shows his mare, a tenderness and affection that Yifan does not often care to reveal to others.

But he takes certain liberties with Minseok, liberties that are certainly not extended to Lu Han, like helping Minseok get on and off his horse, and offering him his rare smiles when they pass him outside the house, and, an incident that only occurred once but was the worst offence of them all, when he’d seen Yifan take Minseok’s hand and laid a kiss on his knuckles.

Lu Han wishes he could like Yifan—he is of the same age as the two of them and is amiable enough to _him—_ but he cannot. Not with the heated way he gazes at Minseok (in very much the same way Lu Han pines for Minseok), not with the way that Yifan’s large hands linger too long on Minseok’s shoulders or waist, and not with the way the hardened stable hand softens for his friend. Lu Han cannot find anything in him to like Yifan, especially not with the way Minseok flushes whenever Yifan does any of these things.

He loses what little affection he has for the younger when he sees Yifan kiss Minseok in one of the nooks in the garden, tentative and gentle, so unlike his usual aloof demeanour. White anger and jealousy fill his heart instead, and Lu Han slips from his place behind a hedge, running, running until he reaches his room. It is only when his door is bolted shut that Lu Han lets the hot tears pour down his cheeks and soak his hair, his shirt, and his pillows.

He falls asleep like this and is only awoken by his hunger having missed lunch earlier that day, just making it in time for supper in the evening.

His reticence is noted by all at the dinner table. Lu Han is usually a voracious eater, as well as pleasant and talkative, but tonight, he touches little of his food, eats even less, and ignores Minseok for as much as he can, speaking only when spoken to. He tries very hard to brush off the hurt and confusion in Minseok’s eyes as he leaves for his room with only an _excuse me_ , retiring for bed immediately so as not to further confront his heartbreak.

But Lu Han can’t help but think about the incident, feeling the pangs of envy and anger and spite, not just at the stable hand, but Minseok too. Lu Han never thought that _he_ would be Minseok’s first kiss (if Yifan was even _that_ ), but if he was so willing to give people like Yifan a chance, then why was Lu Han—who was above Yifan in birth and upbringing—not taken into Minseok’s consideration?

Lu Han, who had taken part in near every waking moment of Minseok’s life since the age of seven, Lu Han who liked Minseok just as much, if not more, than Yifan! If Lu Han were in Yifan’s place, he wouldn’t have dared laid a finger on Minseok in such an inappropriate way.

He knows his place, and he resents himself for it.

Lu Han has the will, but not the courage—the innate defiance to go against the established. It is, after all, why he hadn’t rebelled against his mother all those years ago, begged with her to stay, and it is why Lu Han will not, now, take this up to Minseok. He more content with welcoming his heartbreak and twisting and turning, wrought in his bed, in much the same way that his heart is twisting and turning in Minseok’s oblivious hands.

After his restless sleep, Lu Han hopes that Minseok will not mention a word of the day before, but the other, in all his caring and knowing, confronts him straight after breakfast, creeping up on him at the lake where Lu Han is absentmindedly pulling at the grass.

“Is there something wrong Lu Han?” Minseok asks, standing a way behind him. Lu Han doesn’t say anything, offering only a vigorous shake of the head.

Minseok moves closer, dropping onto the grass beside him and swinging an arm around the other’s shoulders. “Oh Hannie. You know you can’t keep anything from me.”

The weight across his shoulders is warm and Minseok’s smile is just the slightest hint mischievous, and Lu Han is so powerless to him—bewitched, just like everybody else. He is nobody special to Minseok.

Lu Han sighs and looks to the woods across the lake. Minseok’s smile falters just the slightest at the action, but his arm stays, constant.

After a while, Lu Han speaks up, the upset boiling over and spilling forth from his lips. “I saw you and the stable boy—Yifan.”

At this, Minseok’s smile disappears entirely and his arm drops from Lu Han’s shoulders. He moves away from the other, blinking rapidly and wiping his hands on his trousers. Minseok takes a breath, calming himself, and then directs a bashful look towards Lu Han.

“You saw that?”

Lu Han averts his eyes, his heart plummeting further. He’d hoped—no—thought that Minseok would deny the fact, brush it away and save face, but he clearly cared more about Yifan than Lu Han had thought.

“It’s not what you think! Really! I-I was just,” Minseok is frantic, Lu Han can tell by the movement of his hands, “Oh Lu Han, please don’t tell anybody. I was just—curious!”

Lu Han nods and attempts a smile, his fingers coming up to scratch at his sideburns. He suspects it’s not the _full_ truth, but he accepts this over the complete lie that he’d thought Minseok would offer, and he accepts this over any truth that could further push him into misery.

“I promise. You know you can always trust me.”

Minseok lets out a huff, and smiles, taking Lu Han’s hands in his own. “Thank you.”

The look he gives Lu Han is sweet and kind, and it breaks him further. He has to work hard to swallow the fragments of his heart as he takes Minseok into his arms.

 

-

 

Yifan leaves them after a month, taking a job as a shoemaker’s apprentice in town so that he can better provide for his mother.

Unlike what Lu Han had thought he’d be, Minseok is not inconsolable, but the effects of Yifan’s departure are plain to see. He retreats into himself and his school work, spending the majority of his days in the expansive library at the estate, reading or writing or drawing something so that his mind is preoccupied by something. This forces him apart from Lu Han who prefers the out of doors and the great expanse of the fields and skies, enjoying the rides and the hunts and the walks that are given to him.

Lu Han doesn’t care to ignore him or leave him alone at all (Minseok’s sister, Minyoung had once compared him to a limpet to get a rile out of him), but Minseok is in a much different state to what he is used to—Lu Han doesn’t know what would happen if he tried to drag Minseok outside, if he exposed Minseok to anything that reminded him of Yifan.

He hurts terribly, of course he does, watching someone he loves, pine and desire for someone else, someone who isn’t even a part of their lives anymore, but it hurts more for him to be apart from Minseok. They see each other at meals and at lessons, but it’s a lonely routine and it’s not enough for Lu Han who is greedy for Minseok’s presence and time. The only other person he can look to for companionship is Minyoung, who makes for awful company, taunting him and laughing at the tantrums she causes.

It is fortunate, then, that Minseok is a creature of habit and returns to the state he was in prior to the whole situation with Yifan, if not a little disquieted. But he leaves his books and returns to the world of the living, returns to Lu Han, who is nothing less than elated at the prospect of having Minseok back in his arms.

They don’t speak of Yifan again—despite the impact of his presence in the both of their minds—and grow even closer to one another instead.

They only ever take their meals together, hunt and shoot together, and ride together. They take frequent trips to town and the coast and the lakes to wreak gleeful mischief, often overnight and always sharing the same rooms. Even at home, when there is nothing else to do, they confine themselves in one of their rooms; when it is late, and they tire out, the other makes no effort to leave the room, sharing sleep in the same bed.

There are rumours of course—Minseok’s actions, as the heir of the estate, are under close scrutiny, and Lu Han is still under close scrutiny as the upstart baronet that he and everyone else sees him as. It makes a tantalising scandal amongst the aristocracy, and even amongst Lu Han’s peers and the lesser too, that the social-climbing baronet is attempting to seduce Viscount Kim’s poor, little son, but Minseok pays these rumours no heed, instead smiling brighter and clinging tighter to Lu Han.

Lu Han steals Minseok from everybody else and zealously keeps guard, but Lu Han, in turn, belongs only to Minseok.

 

-

 

Lu Han is nineteen and has long left the shade of Lord Kim’s protection. He doesn’t have to leave Rosdale immediately—Lord Kim is not cruel, and was insistent that he stayed, even for a few more months, but Lu Han disliked the feeling of being in debt to him when it wasn’t necessary.

He decides to go to university, in the south, and study law to earn him some money in the future and to make him practical. There were other reasons too, largely concerning Minseok. Lu Han had thought that the distance and the time that studying offered them would be healthy; the rumours, now turning in a malicious direction after Minseok’s rejection of another two suitors, would die out and Lu Han could overcome the feelings he had for his friend.

Minseok had tried his hardest to dissuade Lu Han from the decision, searching out schools in the north for Lu Han to study at instead, offering him more land so that he could earn more money, even outright begging him to stay, close to tears on his bed. But where Minseok was persistent, Lu Han was stubborn and could not be moved.

“You’re leaving me,” Minseok says to him on the day of his departure. “And you’re going so far.”

Lu Han can see the tears brimming in Minseok’s eyes and he has to swallow to allay the pain in his throat. He forces a smirk. “You’re speaking as if I’m leaving the country.”

“You might as well be, you’ll probably be speaking French when you come back,” Minseok scoffs.

Lu Han laughs and pulls Minseok in for a hug. He hopes Minseok doesn’t feel how fast his heart is thrumming, how hard it’s pounding in his chest.

“I’ll be just the same.”

“Promise?” Minseok mumbles.

“I promise.”

Everyone else says their tearful farewells—even Minyoung abandons her usual distaste for him, sniffling and kissing his cheek—and Lu Han leaves in the carriage, waving one last goodbye at Minseok.

Leaving Minseok frightens him. For the last eleven years, Minseok had always had Lu Han looking out for him, but he hadn’t realised that Minseok was his only source of real companionship. Before today, his only real concern was the fact of Minseok’s suitors and how much louder they would be once they’d heard of his absence, but now he’d come to another reality—that he was alone, and the most he had was an impoverished title and a growing reputation as an ambitious seducer.

At least he was going somewhere far, far from the families that associated with the Kims and far from their burning gossip. This way, he could save the both of them from their scrutiny and derisive stares.

 

-

 

Lu Han hadn’t expected to make a friend so fast—he hadn’t really been expecting the whole new atmosphere of university, with the intermingling of different people—but he’s incredibly grateful for Yixing.

Yixing is the only child of Viscount Zhang, and so will have an annual income of £8000 to his name, as well as a beautiful estate in the South, but yet, none of this comes between them—Yixing doesn’t let it. He is all kindness and generosity and sincerity, welcoming Lu Han to the boarding house, helping him unpack and sort out his things, and offering him a tour of the grounds.

“My home is quite close by, only a twenty minute ride,” Yixing smiles, “you can visit anytime I’m taken by homesickness.”

He tells all of this in his letter to Minseok, writing to him the first night of his arrival. They had promised each other a correspondence of two letters a month. Lu Han had pressed for more, but Minseok kept the limit to two, out of mercy for the messenger.

They would usually write about the same things: Minseok would give a review of family life and anything that happened in the county and any suitors that tried their luck, while Lu Han would talk about his studies or about whatever rugby or cricket match was being played at the university. The practice should have been tired out but Lu Han, starved of Minseok’s companionship, had become so enthralled with Minseok’s words and script—the funny little way he looped the tails and the way he’d press too hard on the page was all so endearing.

But he could tell Minseok missed him too; every reference to him was _Luhannie_ or _Hannie_. He could almost hear the stretch of the vowels through the dark ink, and the unspoken forlorn Lu Han’s absence had left him in.

His newfound friend, Yixing, receives letters too, but with less frequency. However, Yixing still derives the same sort of glee that Lu Han feels with the arrival of the post—perhaps even more (his dimple often deepened with the announcement of the arrival of new messages).

“Did you get any good news?” Lu Han asks. He’s sitting on Yixing’s bed, across the other who sits by his desk. “From family?”

Yixing flushes and shakes his head. “No, it’s—uh—it’s about my marriage.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you were getting married?”

“No, not yet,” Yixing says, avoiding Lu Han’s gaze, “but soon. Maybe.” He paces the letter back in its envelope and tucks it underneath a stack of books.

Lu Han grins. “Exciting. Have you met them?”

Yixing glances out of his window, pink still tinting his face. “I’m getting to know him.”

Yixing’s eyes are fond and for now, Lu Han leaves the matter alone.

  


Yixing’s letters grow over the months, just as his fondness does for his betrothed. Lu Han has not yet heard about them—Yixing keeps this one thing secret from him—but his affection for him is telling in the few letters stuffed under Yixing’s pillow, and in his dismissal of the other boys boarding with them and his rejection of the girls they come across in town.

Lu Han is sprawled out on the warm grass while Yixing lays on his front, occupied with a thick stack of papers and his pen. He’s already discarded two sheets, now two perfectly crumpled spheres laying on the green. Lu Han smiles at Yixing’s fault finding.

“Your betrothed must be truly magnificent to reduce the great, charming Zhang Yixing into someone this troubled and anxious,” Lu Han says, grinning.

Yixing groans. “Every word must be perfect. I don’t want to lose him through some grievous error or offence.”

Lu Han sits up. “If he takes offence to everything you write, I don’t think he’s worth all this trouble.”

The other sighs and rolls onto his back, his feet knocking into Lu Han’s thighs.

“It’s not that,” Yixing says, looking into the sky, “I—I think I may have some competition. At the very least he’s been courteous, he’s kind on most days, but he’s always been… Dismissive? No, distant. I can’t find commitment in his words. There must be someone else.”

Lu Han blinks. He sympathises, in a way, with Yixing’s plight. Though he loves him, there is no realistic chance of him marrying Minseok, and he knows that, in time, he will be cast aside for someone else.

He places a steady hand on Yixing’s knee. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“I don’t want to scare him away and—I really like him,” Yixing says.

“May I see his letter?” Lu Han asks.

Yixing reaches into the inner pocket of his overcoat ad draws out the letter. Lu Han takes it and unfolds it. His blood runs cold.

He knows, at just a glance, that this was written by Minseok, from the tidy margins and the neat spacing and the pressure frim his hand. Minseok wrote Yixing’s letters. Minseok is Yixing’s betrothed.

Lu Han feels crossed by both Yixing and Minseok, but he’s always known that whatever he’d had with Minseok would be fleeting—it should be—and this knowledge played a large part in his going to school so far away, so he could temper and overcome his feelings.

But his heart had loved to wage bitter war with reason, and loved victory.

His hands are numb and cold, too cold for the outdoors. Lu Han stands up, abrupt, and leaves Yixing to the solitude of his room.

Once he returns, he collates all of the letters that Minseok had sent him over the year, searching for little traces of Zhang Yixing. He finds some success with the second to last letter, the one Lu Han had received just four weeks ago, mentioning the _kindest and most charming so far_ , one that would be _met with the sorriest rejection_ and his hopes for a _continued friendship._

“Lu Han! What’s—,” Yixing bursts into the room. The hoard of letters, with the same writing as Yixing’s own prized collection confronts him, halting him just past the threshold of Lu Han’s door. Lu Han faces Yixing, dread plastered on his face. “Wait—it’s not what you think—”

“Lu Han. You know Minseok?” Yixing asks.

“Yes. Friends, Minseok and I are friends—we grew up together.” Lu Han is rambling. His tongue feels as fast and as heavy as his heart. “I’m not who you think I am—I’m not your rival.”

Yixing smiles, always gentle and understanding, and it’s heart-breaking. “The letters don’t plead your case. Minseok only writes to me once a month if that.”

Lu Han burns. He had been monopolising all of Minseok’s time, even when separated.

“I can write to him. Persuade him to accept your suit.”

“It’s alright really,” Yixing says, placing his hand on Lu Han’s shoulder.

“But—I thought you liked him?”

“I do. I’ve liked him since our first correspondence, after my mother had suggested I court Kim Minseok of Rosdale. I liked him even more after seeing the miniature my father had sent for.”

Yixing fishes out a little portrait from his pocket. It’s of Minseok, pretty in his little frame as he looks out at the two of them.

“I imagine that it would be easier to fall for him when you spend almost every waking moment with him.” Yixing takes Lu Han’s hand and secures the miniature of Minseok in it. “Worry not. I won’t press any further.”

Lu Han frowns. “But what about your marriage?”

Yixing winks. “You must not have seen—I _am_ quite the catch. Besides, from what I’ve seen, Minseok seems to be a wilful character—if he rejects me once, he will not be moved.”

Lu Han nods, but something still irks him. “We’re not together—Minseok and I. There wasn’t ever the chance of that happening.”

“But would you like there to be?”

“I—.” Lu Han pauses. He doesn’t really know. While he would desire, more than anything, to be with Minseok, to covet Minseok with pride and openness, he would rather he be on Minseok’s level.

He had known all these years, even when he first moved to Rosdale, that it had only been the deep friendship between their fathers that had kept Lu Han alive under the Kim’s generosity. If Lord Kim had not been so close to his late father, he would have had to live with his mother and her contempt, eating away at what little income they would receive.

His dependence on the Kims was embarrassing enough, but he could not imagine the humility—for the both of them—if Minseok married him. Lu Han would never be able to provide for him in the way that he was used to, would never be able to give Minseok what he deserved, and would reduce him, make him subject to the malice and gossip of those above him, those who _could_ provide for Minseok.

“It wouldn’t really matter if I had a chance would it?” he replies. Yixing does not have a reply.

 

-

 

At the beginning of summer, the end of the first year of Lu Han’s studies, Lord Kim arrives to accompany him on the journey back home.

“Mr Kim!” Lu Han says, hugging the older man, “You didn’t have to come all this way!”

“Nonsense! I couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving you alone for another minute!” he says, leading Lu Han to the carriage. “Now, tell me how you’ve been.”

Lu Han is moved. He had planned to travel by himself (despite Yixing’s offers) and had allotted enough money for the inns he’d have to stay at over the three nights, but truth be told, he had become incredibly homesick over the months away, and was delighted to see such a welcome face.

The journey back to Rosdale is one that Lu Han is grateful for. He had missed the familiarity of Lord Kim and his generosity is always appreciated (he had paid for the inns they stayed in on the way back). But of course, Lu Han had missed Minseok the most. Yixing is everything he could ask for in a friend, but what he was with Minseok runs deep—and his heart had longed for the other for so long.

He’s at the door to greet them when they arrive and Minseok is as pretty as Lu Han had left him, even more so with his sharp, sparkling eyes and round cheeks flushed high. The feelings from seven months ago come flooding back to fill the aching void in his heart.

“Lu Han!” Minseok cries as he runs into Lu Han’s arms. Lu Han has never felt so full, so ready to burst.

“I missed you,” Lu Han whispers into his hair, “so much.”

Minseok gives him a cheeky grin. “I missed you more, I’m sure of that. It’s been so…dull without you.”

“That’s hurtful Minseok,” Lord Kim says, coming up behind them, “all your time here’s been spent with me! Now, go help Lu Han with his things.”

  


They return to their old pattern almost immediately, but there _are_ some things that have changed. One is Lady Kim’s keen interest in Minseok’s marriage.

“Your suitors will dry up soon. And you’re not getting any younger,” she says at dinner, in between sips of wine.

“At least I can have the leftovers?” Minyoung says, giving Minseok a salacious wink over the table. “He’s rejected good men. I can have the pick of the lot!”

Lady Kim gives her daughter a sound glare before returning her attention back to her eldest.

“You’re the heir Minseok. You have to think about the future. Take Lu Han as an example he’s studying law! You need to snap a husband up soon—I don’t want to give anyone reason to talk badly about you.”

Minseok nods but gives no verbal response. He doesn’t talk much for the rest of dinner either.

“How many suitors have written you since I left?” Lu Han asks. They’re alone in the drawing room; it is late enough that Lord and Lady Kim have retired for the night, and Minyoung had left too sometime earlier.

Minseok stares at him, irritation evident in his eyes. “Not you too? I’d looked forward to your return so I wouldn’t _just_ have to hear about marriages.”

Lu Han blinks, taken aback. “Forgive me, I thought that you could at least talk about it with me? I’m your best friend after all.” He gives Minseok a teasing grin, a raising of the corner of his lips that thaws away at his annoyance.

“Fine. Four. There was another letter from Count Shim—I’d ended that once and for all—and one from Heechul, Baroness Kim’s son. There was also Viscount Zhang’s Yixing, and Duke Oh’s youngest.”

“Duke Oh’s son? Sehun?” Lu Han is shocked. A Duke’s son had come asking for Minseok, had wanted to marry Minseok. “How did you even meet him?”

“Minyoung and I went up to the Lakes in the spring. It happened to be Lord Sehun’s birthday, and he’d come with his mother and brother.” Minseok’s legs are tucked into his arms, and he rocks, all the while staring at his knees. “We’d gotten along fairly well. I think he fancies himself quite taken with me.”

Lu Han swallows the lump in his throat. “Then you should accept.” Minseok’s eyes snap up to meet his. “Why not? He’s the son of a duke. I don’t think there’s anyone better for you—unless his brother’s offering?”

Minseok gives him a small smile. “No, just him.”

“Well, why haven’t you accepted?”

“Because I don’t want to marry him.” Minseok stares at him, round eyes full of feeling. “I want to marry you.”

“What?”

Lu Han can’t have heard right. There’s no way that Minseok, Kim Minseok, would actually—

“I want to marry _you_.”

Minseok’s eyes are brimming with tears and his hands, clasped tight around his knees, are shaking. “I’ve liked you for so long now, and when you left, it was so difficult. Before, when I woke up, I’d looked forward to seeing you and it was easy—you were here, always here for me. But then you left and I—I thought I’d be alright—would get over this silly little infatuation—but I wanted you. I still do.”

Tears run their way down Minseok’s lovely cheeks and soak his white shirt.

“Please say you feel the same way,” Minseok pleads. Lu Han, in all his imagining, had never once thought that he would be the one to bring the brilliant Kim Minseok down to this.

“I do—I feel the same way,” Lu Han says, “but I can’t. I can’t marry you.”

“Why not?” Minseok’s eyes are searching Lu Han’s face frantically. He’s become erratic.

“What can I give you? My income is barely enough to sustain my mother. And I’ve lived off enough from your family—it’s fortunate that your father would not hear of my leaving. And you will be a viscount—I can’t be enough for you. The greatest crime I could commit against you is to marry you.”

“But I don’t care about that! I love you!”

“And I love you! But _I_ care, I care about what this could do to you.”

Lu Han stays firm, but Minseok is a stubborn creature and pulls Lu Han in for a kiss.

It is a messy affair of hot tears and hot lips, with the taste of salt on skin and tongue. But this is more than what Lu Han has ever asked for. He has Minseok’s strong hands on his face, and his own on Minseok’s narrow waist, gripping tighter and tighter, unwilling to let go.

Minseok pulls away a little bit. “I love you. Please.”

“I love you too,” Lu Han whispers, “but you know as well as I do that we can’t.”

Minseok sighs, giving him the saddest smile. “I’m glad that, at the very least, you gave me that.”

 

-

 

Their summer continues with a quiet tension between them, a new secrecy that undercuts all their actions together. They take care not to let ant of the servants or members of Minseok’s family see, but Lu Han likes to join their hands together, likes the soft solidity of Minseok’s hand, and Minseok takes to greeting him with kisses on the cheek.

When they’re alone in their rooms, they’re even bolder, allowing for passionate kisses and wandering hands.

But while Lu Han’s heart is greedy and so willing to take more, his reason bridles him, gives him perspective. He knows he cannot have Minseok and he will not take him despite Minseok’s pleas—it would only hurt the two of them more. What they started was already too much.

He returns to university in the autumn with a heavy heart, but a stronger resolve.

In October, he writes to Lady Kim. He suggests a ball for Minseok’s twenty-first birthday, asking for the invitation of all eligible bachelors so Minseok can have his pick of husband. Lu Han commends himself on his penmanship—his hand had not poured his heart out on the paper as he feared it would—and sends it off, but not before asking that she would not reveal that the ball was his idea.

She takes to his idea incredibly well, writing back quickly within two weeks, gleefully laying out potential plans, asking for names of any potential suitors, and thanking him for being the best friend Minseok could have.

Minseok’s correspondence differs vastly from his mother’s, raging at the prospect of being torn from _his_ Lu Han.

Lu Han replies that this is for the best, and that it was inevitable. Minseok spares him a response.

They don’t see each other again until Christmas, when Lu Han visits Rosdale. Minseok’s mother glows with his arrival, her secret matchmaker, but Minseok is a moody thing, something which catches on to Minyoung, trapped in a house with a fussy mother and a defiant brother.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” she sighs as she leads Lu Han back to his room. “I’ve suffered alone for too long.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Lu Han cannot let on that this was all his doing.

Minyoung rolls her eyes. “Mama’s been driving Minseok mad. He’s barely speaking to her now.”

“I can talk to him if you’d like?” Lu Han offers. It’s the least he could do—he was the one who had driven this wedge between mother and son.

“Please, if you could. I know Minseok’s been looking forward to your coming back.”

  


Minseok is good at hiding, especially when he doesn’t want to be found, but Lu Han is not Lady Kim, he knows Minseok so much better, so he’s easily found by the evergreens at the lake.

“Lady Kim won’t go this far, not in this weather, but aren’t you cold?” Lu Han asks. He sits down next to him. “I’ve brought you a jacket.”

Minseok turns to him. “Thank you.”

Lu Han lets silence wash over the two of them. The air is chilled and only getting cooler with the darkening sky, but Minseok’s presence stills him on the grass.

“I don’t want to get married if—if it’s not to you,” Minseok whispers.

“I don’t want you to—”

“But you’re just letting it happen!” Minseok cries. Lu Han, tentatively, wipes at the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“It can’t be helped. You know as well as I do that this, this is inescapable,” Lu Han says.

Minseok nods.  He looks Lu Han in the eye, and then down at the cold grass.

“Will you promise me that… that you won’t leave me?” he asks, his voice small. Minseok has always been youthful, but now he’s a child, desperate for Lu Han to give him what he wants.

Lu Han shakes his head. “I can’t” Save for the practicality of it, he has to return to Briarton at some point and—seeing Minseok, with another man, with a family that he cannot share with Minseok—it would break him, shatter his entire being.

“Alright,” Minseok says after swallowing a new wave of tears down, “will you at least come to the ball? It is for my birthday, no matter what anyone else says, and I want you there.”

Lu Han smiles. “Of course. I have to approve of my successor.”

 

-

 

The next time Lu Han sees Minseok is just before the ball.

Lu Han had already thought Rosdale to be the very model of great house, but now, draped in glorious white silks and lace and peppered with the loveliest flowers, it is as if Lady Kim has transformed her house into Olympus, and Lu Han tells her as much.

“I’m not responsible for all of this,” she says, eyes glittering, “Minseok’s played his part, and no small one either.”

That had come as a surprise. When Lu Han had left him, Minseok was reluctant and reticent; only the promise of Lu Han’s return had put some life into him.

“Oh?” he asks, “What came over him?”

Lady Kim sits him down in the dining room, calling for some tea.

“I suspect it was Duke Oh’s son,” she whispers as if he’s the company of the other ladies she invites over.

“Lord Sehun?” Lu Han is stilled in his chair.

“Yes!” Lady Kim smiles. “He was a persistent one, despite our first impressions. He’s really the sweetest boy—I think Minseok’s quite taken with him.”

Lu Han can feel his stomach churning, but he gives Lady Kim a smile, one that he hopes communicates sincere joy.

“I’m glad our Minseok’s found someone.”

  


Looking at Minseok over breakfast, it’s as if he’s been untouched by the notion of the tangibility of his marriage, something which before, Minseok had treated like news of his own death. The Minseok now is lovelier than ever, full-cheeked and cheery-eyed, very much like a newly-wed bride.

“Minyoung, darling, could you come with me to town to fetch the last roses?” Lady Kim asks.

“Of course, mama,” Minyoung replies.

“Oh, and Minseok, I’ve called for your clothes to be brought over. It’s a selection,” she turns to Lu Han, “you can have Lu Han help you decide what to wear.”

Minseok smiles at Lu Han. “Yes mama. Have fun on your day out.”

Minseok grabs Lu Han’s wrist immediately after breakfast has been cleared, dragging him to his room.

“Are you sure about this?” Lu Han asks. The prospect of Minseok, who looks good in anything, trying on and taking off clothes promises to be a tortuous one.

“Of course,” Minseok says, selecting the dark blue suit first. “I need you here to stoke my ego.”

And it is tortuous. There are only three outfits that Lady Kim has picked out, but Minseok looks a stunner in all of them, regal in dark blue, angelic in white, and charming in pink.

“What do you think Hannie?” Minseok asks as he twirls around in the pink. “Is this too gaudy?”

“No, no,” Lu Han says, “that’s the one you should wear.” He’s never been able to keep his eyes off of Minseok, truly, but he knows that in this blush pink, Minseok will command all eyes in the room. Including Oh Sehun’s.

Minseok looks at him, scrutinising him with sharp eyes. Then he sits next to Lu Han on his bed and embraces him, enveloping his arms around Lu Han’s waist.

“Are you sure about this? This doesn’t have to happen.” Minseok’s words thrum against his bones, almost in time with the beating of his heart.

“It’s what I want for you,” Lu Han replies.

“But what do you want for yourself Lu Han?” Minseok asks, peering up at him through thick lashes.

Lu Han doesn’t know how to answer.

  


At the night of the ball, Minseok’s birthday, Lu Han is sure that Rosdale is the envy of the country. The manse is alit by the stars and candles and all the bright, young things looking forward to enchanting Minseok.

Lu Han feels like a spectator, looking in rather than being part of the picture, but Minseok is firmly at his side, and after a dance and one or two glasses of good wine, he too feels young and bright and almost as worthy of Minseok as the others there.

Minseok has managed to rope him into another spritely dance, which they’re in the middle of, when all of his worries return, tenfold, with the arrival of two men.

Kim Jongin, from what Lu Han’s been told, is a distant relative of Minseok’s, belonging to a more auspicious branch of the family tree, is the son and heir of Earl Kim. He’s even more handsome than what the serving maids whisper, with his deep, dark eyes, plush lips, and skin loved by the sun. And at just eighteen, he’s taller than Lu Han.

But the man accompanying him is who floods dread into Lu Han’s veins. Oh Sehun. Although he is not his father’s heir like Jongin, he is the son of a duke, and has a sizeable income of £35,000. On top of that, Oh Sehun is handsome and dignified in the way that Lu Han knows Minseok likes, with his proud face, broad shoulders and steely gaze. At seventeen, he’s not taller than Jongin, but Lu Han would gamble that Sehun will overcome that.

Minseok grabs Lu Han’s hand, drawing his attention away from the two. “Don’t focus on them, focus on me. It’s my night.”

Lu Han nods, trying to continue with the motions of the dance, but he’s further perturbed when he catches sight of Sehun’s eyes chasing Minseok’s movement, never ending when even the dance does.

“Minseok! Dear!” Lady Kim call. Minseok and Lu Han know she is to be obeyed tonight and make their way to her, the two of them bowing to her and her companions—Jongin and Sehun—at the table. “Oh, he’s a delightful dancer isn’t he? Almost as good as you Jongin.”

Jongin flushes, ducking his head down. “Sehun’s an excellent dancer as well,” he says, clapping his hand on a now sheepish Sehun’s shoulder.

“Oh brilliant!” Lady Kim exclaims, “You can take Minseok for the next dance.”

As bold as the suggestion is, Minseok takes it in his stride, beaming beautifully at Sehun who’s even more flushed under his attention. Lu Han doesn’t like to admit it, but he’s taken a liking to this boy, and hopes Minseok has too—Sehun’s his best choice.

“Shall we dance now Lord Sehun?” Minseok asks, “this one’s just about to end.”

The next set piece is written for a courting dance, depicting one of fleeting touches and heavy gazes. The timing is so perfect that Lu Han cannot help but think that the current song had been specifically chosen by Lady Kim for this purpose. But both Sehun and Minseok _are_ excellent dancers, working perfectly with the music and reach other; Lu Han is wont to think that the dance depicts reality, judging from Sehun’s stares and the flush, high on Minseok’s cheeks.

Applause meets the pair as the dance ends, and they laugh with each other, giddy on the unnoticed attention, before Sehun returns Minseok, his small hand tucked carefully into the crook of Sehun’s arm. Lu Han thinks they make a very attractive couple.

Lady Kim is absolutely radiant by the time they return to the table, almost as brilliant as her young son.

“We’ll let you take a rest love, but Jongin would like a dance with you when you’re ready.”

“Of course, I’d be happy to oblige,” Minseok replies.

The mirth from his dance with Sehun bubbles over and over, overflowing in such a way that it softens and mellows the pain of Lu Han’s heart breaking.

He stays for Minseok’s dance with Jongin, joining along with Minyoung as they dance to the tune of bouncy violins, and even lets Minseok take him up for another dance—just the two of them—but he cannot stay to watch Minseok and Sehun. He tosses down one last red and leaves just as the music starts, unseen and unchecked by Minseok.

  


There is no news from Oh Sehun, or even Kim Jongin, after the ball. Lady Kim paces her study, driving herself anxious by the lack of response, the perceived lack of interest from the two boys.

Lu Han thinks differently, thinks that Sehun had only ever shown interest for Minseok—he’d never even looked at anybody else, not even Lu Han, Minseok’s constant shadow.

It is a couple of weeks after, that a letter arrives for Minseok, with Duke Oh’s family seal stamped in thick crimson, during lunchtime.

“I see the ball wasn’t as fruitless as you’d thought dear,” Lord Kim says to his wife.

“Not at all.” Minseok’s eyes are scanning the letter, over and over, face unbelieving. “He said he wants to visit. He hopes this weekend is alright?”

“Of course!” Lady Kim says. “Now hurry and write him back!”

Minseok wrinkles his nose. “It took him a while. Is this really something I’d appreciate in a husband, someone I’d have to live with for the rest of my life?”

“He probably wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine,” Minyoung chortles. Lu Han raises an eyebrow at this. “After you left, Minseok didn’t dance with anyone else after, save myself. I reckon he’s just playing hard to get.”

“It was such a shame,” Lady Kim says, “he looked so longingly at you Minseok. But no matter! He’s coming in three days, we have other things to worry about now.”

Minseok rolls his eyes. “Clearly, playing hard to get worked then.” His eyes meet Lu Han’s across the table, and Lu Han knows that it hadn’t really worked, hadn’t dissuaded Sehun at all.

  


Sehun arrives just before Lu Han is set to leave, on Saturday, a man of his word.

He takes Minseok, alone, on walks around the gardens, horseback riding, and to the lake—just as Lu Han would have done with Minseok—before proposing.

Minseok asks for time, which Sehun—with his young heart so close to bursting—reluctantly gives, and he searched out Lu Han who’s confined himself in his room since Lord Sehun’s arrival.

“He’s proposed,” Minseok announced, breathless, as he barges into his room.

Lu Han looks up in shock. “Did you say yes?”

“Do you want me to say yes?” Minseok asks him in earnest, looking for any signs of self-committed treachery on Lu Han’s part.

“Yes.”

Minseok glares at him, and before storming out, says this. “This was never _about_ me. It was all about you, and what others would say about _you_ , how you were some dirty, selfish upstart looking to pillage all that I had. I would have protected you. Your stubbornness and pride—they’re the worst in you.”

At dinner, they celebrate Minseok’s acceptance of Sehun’s proposal. The two look thoroughly enamoured with each other, a stark difference to how Minseok had looked at Lu Han just a couple of hours ago. Lu Han could almost be convinced that Minseok hadn’t given his heart to another.

Lu Han leaves for university the very next morning, with only a quiet farewell to Lord Kim.

  


Minseok sends out no more letters. The most correspondence Lu Han keeps with the Kims is through Lord Kim, and young Jongin, who’d desired a new friend. Lu Han laughs at the thought of it—the two of them, fallen prey to Kim Minseok’s charms and too weak to break free (too unwilling on Lu Han’s part). It’s easy to gauge; Jongin writes about the engagement with barely disguised bitterness. Just like him, Jongin is a poor loser.

For the final term of his second year, he pushes further with his studies, trying—as well as he can—to shove thoughts of Minseok to the furthest recesses of his mind. Days are spent in the classroom and library while nights are reserved for even more study and what little sleep he can get.

After term ends, he finds that he has nowhere to go. He cannot go to Briarton, to his mother, without work and an increased income, and he cannot return to Rosdale where he would only complicate things for Minseok and his future, and he cannot stay in the boarding houses.

Yixing, in all his God-graced kindness, offers to let him stay at his estate.

“It’s really only me and my grandparents over the summer—my parents like to go to the continent during this time,” Yixing says, “don’t worry, they’ll like you.”

Lu Han doesn’t like being in debt to anyone, already balks at all the time spent with the Kims, but he really has no other choice, so he writes to Lord Kim, saying that he’d prefer to stay with the Zhangs over the summer, and moves his things out with Yixing.

The estate is just as expansive as Rosdale, even more so with it’s wide, open fields, and a deer-wood, but Lu Han cannot help the comparisons, cannot help the longing for the place that had been his home for over half his life. But Yixing helps to cheer him up, and settle him into his home, trying hard to draw his thoughts away from Minseok, with some success.

Lu Han cannot help but think that this is due to Yixing’s own experience.

  


Summer falls into autumn, and Lu Han falls back into school and his previous pattern with even more vigour for his third and final year.

Breaks are also spent with Yixing—excuses are sent to Lord Kim, citing that he’d prefer to be closer to university for his final year—and this too becomes a regular pattern until his studies are over and Lu Han, finally, lets himself breathe.

He says goodbye to Yixing and travels north, back to his home. On the way, he visits Jongin and his family, who welcome him as their relatives had once before.

“Lu Han!” Jongin says, as he helps Lu Han with his things. “Did you know Minseok and Sehun are getting married?”

This news is not new but, nevertheless hearing it from someone else is such a harsh confrontation. Lu Han smiles away any hurt he feels. “When?”

“April. That’s what Minyoung’s written to us at least,” he replies.

“April? That’s next year. I would have thought that they would have gotten married by _now_ ,” Lu Han comments, confused. “They’ve been engaged since last year.”

Jongin shrugs. “I think Minseok wanted to wait until Sehun turned twenty.” He gives Lu Han a charming smile. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”

 

-

 

Three months into Lu Han’s return to Briarton, he’s already found work in town, a promising job with a promising salary. He’s lucky to live nearby a sizeable town.

His mother is proud, the proudest she’s ever been of him, but as much as Lu Han had wanted this—his mother’s attention, her _care_ —in the past, his time away from her has changed him, has numbed him, and he no longer looks to her for approval, not when Lord and Lady Kim have been providing him with what he needed for so many years.

He can only smile when his mother hugs him—she’s crying _now_ —but her affection has come too late. He’s no longer wanting.

  


Lu Han makes the best of Briarton. With his extra income, he splurges on renovating the estate. It _had_ once been great, in spite of its size, the pretty example of its potential evident in old paintings around the inside of the house, and he works to restore it. He toils the garden, planting new flowers, and taking care of the large lawn, restoring nature to his house, and fixes up the house with new paint and some new furnishings with what he can afford.

He knows it will take time, and money—all that will have to come over the years—but he’s certain he can restore the place to something he’d be proud to call his home. Maybe he’ll marry, a wife—as his mother would like—and they can repair the house together and maybe, Lu Han could be happy and whole, even without Minseok.

  


March comes too quick, it’s signal the buttery daffodils that Lu Han had planted underneath the front windows, and the invitation to Minseok and Sehun’s wedding, secure in his hand. Tangible evidence of what he no longer has.

He’d always known that he wouldn’t attend, even at sixteen when his love for Minseok had just been blossoming, but it’s tempting, the thought that he could see him again—the image of Minseok in flowy lace and silk is enough to drive Lu Han’s curiosity, but healing takes time and it would be tampered by the sight of Minseok given away to someone else.

Lu Han is resolved, and will not attend. He will no longer see his friend.

  


Minseok, too is resolved and even more headstrong, coming with the arrival of spring. Lu Han finds him, soaked to the bone, outside his house, standing with his back to the powerful April showers. Even despondent and wet, Minseok is beautiful sight. Lu Han feels the air rushing from his lungs.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I can’t do it Hannie. I can’t do this to us, to him. I can’t hurt Sehun like this,” Minseok says.

Lu Han takes him under his arm, leading him in front of the fire to warm up. He runs to his room, grabbing a large towel and some sheets to dry Minseok up.

“I’ve been putting it off for so long Hannie, and it got so close—too close—and I called it off, I called the wedding off,” Minseok weeps, letting Lu Han peel off his soaked clothing. “It hurt too much.”

Lu Han looks at Minseok, a face he hadn’t seen for two years, and this is when his heart takes charge now, enveloping the shorter man wholly in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into Minseok’s hair.

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” Minseok cries, beating his fists against his chest. “Leaving me and not saying anything about it! How could you?”

Lu Han chuckles and squeezes Minseok tighter in his arms. “I’ve been so stupid for so long—”

“You have.”

“—And nobody deserved the mess I made—”

“No.”

“—And I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Minseok looks up at him. “I already have.” His eyes are still full of unshed tears and Lu Han is overcome with the strongest urge to kiss him.

And he does, gently, liking the feel of Minseok’s soft lips, the warmth, the taste. It is just as passionate as the first time, and just as full of feeling, as he deepens it further, holding Minseok’s arms tight. Lu Han will not let him go, not this time, not ever, but Minseok breaks away.

“Is your mother home?” Minseok asks, eyes darting around.

Lu Han tries to recall his mother’s plans. “I think she’s gone to town.”

Minseok frowns. “Say that with more confidence—so I feel better about this.”

“My mother’s gone to town. She won’t travel back in this rain.”

Minseok laughs, airy and bright just as Lu Han’s heart is at the sight and feel of him. “Good. You’ve already undressed me, so you should finish what you started and keep me warm.”

Lu Han takes Minseok’s face in his hands, giving him a longing look before moving closer and taking his lips, again, in a searing kiss. Minseok is wonderfully pliant in arms, leaning against him, and letting him take control. Lu Han feels a surge of pride at the thought that only he would see this side of the magnificent Kim Minseok, who parts his lips so easily for Lu Han, gasps so lovingly for Lu Han, and begs so beautifully for Lu Han to take him.

He hoists Minseok’s legs around his waist, and carries him all the way up to his room, never breaking apart, not even when he lowers Minseok onto his bed, who so willingly parts his legs for Lu Han to slot in between.

He can feel Minseok’s arousal, hard against his own, and he ruts against him, drawing a wonderfully high-pitched whine out of the other.

Minseok busies himself with getting rid of Lu Han’s clothing, tossing away his overcoat and tearing at his shirt like a feral kitten, desperate to get to his prey. Lu Han does the same to Minseok with the only article of clothing he has left on, pulling over his shirt to suck and bite at the fair, unmarred skin, finally marking him as his own.

“Mine,” Lu Han hisses. “You’re mine.”

“Yes, yes—all yours,” Minseok promises.

Lu Han inches closer and closer to Minseok’s cock, leaving pink and purple marks on his soft hips, making it clear that Minseok is well loved, before gripping his waist and taking his cock fully into his mouth. Minseok cries out at the sensation, hands reaching down to grab at Lu Han’s hair, taking it out on his soft strands.

“Lu Han,” Minseok whispers, “I—I won’t be able to last like this. I want you inside me.”

He pulls off with one last teasing suck and nods, scrambling to find some oil, so as not to hurt Minseok, finding success with a small bottle hidden deep in one of his drawers. He pops the cork off and dips his fingers in, warming the oil and coating his fingers in them fully, before taking his middle finger and teasing around Minseok’s rim. He’s already able to draw the most beautiful sounds from Minseok, just through this. He can’t wait to be fully sheathed in, driving Minseok to the fullest pleasure.

“Don’t tease me,” Minseok whines, “I’ve waited too long for this.”

Lu Han chuckles, kissing him and sucking at his tongue, the same time that his middle finger breaches into Minseok’s hole. He gasps at the discomfort, writhing around on the sheets and pulling away from Lu Han.

“Do you want me to stop?” Lu Han asks.

“No, no. Keep going.”

Minseok smiles at him through the pain, moving Lu Han to press in and out, before adding the second, stretching him out so he can take Lu Han’s cock. The third finger is what has Minseok crying, with the stretch and the length of Lu Han’s fingers able to find the little bundle of nerves that has Minseok moving his hips against Lu Han’s hand.

“I’m ready,” Minseok says, face and chest flushed with anticipation.

Lu Han nods. He takes more of the lubricant, slicking up his erection fully, and lines it up with Minseok’s hole. With his forearms on either side of Minseok’s head, he pushes in slowly, letting the other get accustomed to the size of Lu Han’s cock.

The heat and tightness of Minseok is dizzying. It almost drives Lu Han to be the one begging, pleading Minseok to allow him to thrust further and harder into his delicious heat, but the other’s comfort is what matters the most, and Lu Han can’t break his trust, not _now_.

He searches Minseok’s face for permission to move, delighted when he’s granted it by a nod, and pulls out before thrusting in again. Minseok’s moans and the legs encircling his waist encourage him to go faster, rougher, each thrust pushing Minseok up the bed and inducing the most precious sounds out of him.

One particular thrust has Minseok screaming and writhing underneath him, and Lu Han smirks, slamming in and aiming for that one spot that soon has Minseok hiccupping and clawing at his back. He grips Minseok’s dick, and using the left over lubricant, he finishes him off to completion, crying and spilling over Lu Han’s fingers and both of their stomachs.

As Minseok comes, he tightens around Lu Han, his walls eagerly pulsating around him, taking him in deeper, as the other’s thrusts become more and more erratic. It’s the combination of this and Minseok’s mewls from the oversensitivity that push Lu Han to the edge, and with one last thrust, he comes hard, seeing white as he collapses onto Minseok.

When he comes to, he sees Minseok cleaning him up with a damp cloth and some water, warmed by the fire.

“You’re alright now,” Minseok says, smiling at him softly.

“With you here, I am,” Lu Han replies. Minseok’s face crinkles before he gives Lu Han a peck on the lips.

“I’m going to ask you this one last time, I swear, and I only expect one answer.”

Lu Han raises a brow.

“Will you marry me?” Minseok challenges.

Lu Han grins. “Of course.”


End file.
